


A Winchester Family Not Quite Christmas Dinner

by that_sea_sponge



Category: Supernatural
Genre: "First Real Christmas", Family Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 03:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17175038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_sea_sponge/pseuds/that_sea_sponge
Summary: A family Christmas for the Winchesters, the first real Christmas for Jack.





	A Winchester Family Not Quite Christmas Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areasontobreathe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areasontobreathe/gifts).



> This is for areasontobreathe for a tumblr Destiel Secret Santa gift. I had fun writing it, I hope you enjoy reading it.

It started with Jack asking for a Christmas tree. It was Sam’s sales pitch that brought about the twinkling lights around the bunker. Jack and Sam worked on a needlessly complex Christmas train set that had to loop around something, so that’s how the Christmas village was born. Castiel insisted that every village must have a church, with resident angel, of course. Soon paper angels and snowflakes hung from many of the ceilings and one angel with shiny black wings topped the tree, not that Dean knew anything about that. Mary mentioned the strings of popcorn and paper chains that she used growing up and several of those found their way around the bunker’s kitchen.

It was Dean who suggested the Christmas dinner, on Christmas of course. It was Sam who suggested that maybe a small dinner while they wait for Garth to infiltrate Michael’s forces would make the waiting easier. Jack and Castiel agreed. Jack wasn’t familiar with big family dinners and somehow it was decided that each man should focus on one dish. Dean would of course, under threat of certain death, be the only one to handle the preparation for a turkey. Sam opted for some over complicated frou-frou vegetable medley and Cas, after some days of thinking, volunteered to make a “drink I tried once at this one place”. Jack discovered the wild world of Jell-O molding at Thanksgiving, so that would be his contribution. 

So it was that the brothers Winchester, one in a pink “kiss the cook” apron, the other with some unidentifiable green vegetable in his hair, an angel, and a Nephilim all skirted around each other in the bunker’s small kitchen, bartering for oven time, hoarding serving utensils, and making ‘just one more substitution’ to established recipes.

“You don’t eat dandelions, Sammy, you murder them with a lawnmower,” Dean chided Sam with a smile before snatching a dandelion to munch and instantly regretting it.

“At least I won’t have to ask Cas to heal my sodium levels!” Sam shot back with an exaggeratedly disapproving look of his older brother’s turkey coming out of the oven.

“Cas, don’t you dare, I want to earn my heart disease,” Dean warned, waggling an electric carving knife at the blue eyed, bed haired angel who was contemplatively stirring a pot over a boiler.

“I didn’t raise you from the depths of hell to let you wreck your kidneys, Dean Winchester,” Cas responded in his characteristically dry, deep voice. Cas spoke without humor, but Dean knew he was joking. Hopefully he was joking. Dean paused to wonder if the angel was joking and, if not, how many times Cas may have silently ‘helped him out’ over the years with his many small touches.

After speaking, Cas returned his full attention back to stirring an aromatic, thick mixture under a very specific simmer. Dean felt Cas to be uncharacteristically melancholy since Jack ‘came back’, but he was the only one who thought so. “I’ll fight you, Angel!” Dean tried to engage his friend back into the light banter.

Cas didn’t answer, but with a now-rare sweep of his hand, Dean felt himself gently pushed three feet towards the kitchen’s exit and Cas crossed to where Dean had been standing and rifled through a cabinet drawer.

“Show off,” Dean muttered with a smile, placing his turkey on a long counter surface and began slicing, thick jagged chunks off of the bird. Jack joined him at the counter with a red colored, wreath shaped Jell-O concoction with fruit floating improbably in the center.

“It’s perfect!” Jack smiled down at the Jell-O.

“I’m sure it is.” Dean and Sam spoke together.

Soon enough each man had a plate and found their typical spots at the small, four-person kitchen table that sat against a tiled wall.

“Is this what Christmas was like for you two growing up?” Jack asked innocently, uncertainly spearing an asparagus sprout with his fork.

Sam let out a quiet laugh form his place next to the Nephilim. “Not quite.”

Dean looked at Sam’s plate with approval, his brother had taken twice as much turkey as the other men at the table and then he met his brother’s hazel eyes. “It was usually just me and Sam doing what we could with what we had. When dad was around, we didn’t even do that much.”

“He wasn’t much into celebration,” Sam explained, taking a large bite of turkey. “Holidays, birthdays, graduations, smiling, being human.

Cas rose from the table and gently pushed passed Dean to go to the stove to retrieve his bubbling brew. _Did he just heal me?_

“Remember that time Bobby took us to an ice rink for Christmas day?”, Dean asked his brother and gratefully held out a metal cup to receive Castiel’s beverage as the angel circled the table, pouring into every man’s cup.

“I remember the ride to the hospital after you fell and literally broke your ass,” Sam chided.

Dean shivered and took a sip of his drink. He wasn’t able to sit down comfortably for weeks afterwards. Dean’s reminiscence paused as he noticed the drink in his mouth. It was a berry wine, but thicker and tasted like cloves, ginger, and a few other things Dean couldn’t identify. It tasted…old. Certainly not something that would be popular today, but it was very good.

Sam must have been having the same thoughts about his own drink. “Wow Cas, this is great!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched Cas beam a bright white smile back to Sam.

“Thank you, it was the first thing that came to mind when you spoke of a ‘Family Dinner’. I wasn’t certain you would enjoy it.”

“Is it one of Mary’s old-fashioned recipes?” Jack asked. Dean shivered at the thought of his mother being ‘old-fashioned’. It made him sound old.

Castiel smiled slightly and looked past Jack when he spoke. “There, um, was a village just outside of where Vienna is now. Barely a village even, a couple of families. They built this tiny, beautiful chapel and I would go there for services. I say go there, but,” Castiel gestured to himself, “they couldn’t see me, of course.” 

The angel paused to take a sip of his drink. “One year, at about this time, I…had an assignment nearby and I was given permission to use a human vessel, which, you know almost never happens. My, uh, vessel – “Castiel looked at his hands and cringed just a little. Dean took a breath, ready to change the topic, but Cas took a breath and continued.

“His name was Ansilo and he worked at a quarry. He was scarred and calloused and I think he genuinely welcomed the opportunity for a break. Anyway, I took a short detour into that village. I wanted to sit for a prayer and experience the place from a human perspective.”

“Did the villagers accept you?” Sam asked, enthralled by the story.

Cas nodded. “Oh yes. It just so happened that the village was having a winter festival. They welcomed me. I sat in the chapel with them. The village religious leader was extremely…charismatic. Then there was a huge feast with music and dancing and lots of, well, this,” Cas sloshed the beverage in his cup for emphasis. “That night the whole village smelled like cloves and berries. Everything was too loud and too bright. But, I stayed as long as I could and watched them dance and laugh out in the snow.”

It was easy for Dean to forget that beneath Jimmie’s insurance agent exterior, Cas was a truly ancient being who had spent hundreds of thousands of years, more even, wandering and watching the Earth and its inhabitants. At this moment though, with the bunker’s soft lighting accenting the contours of his face and bringing out the confused emotions trapped inside of his eyes, Cas looked so far beyond anything, anyone Dean could ever begin to comprehend that Dean knew he had to spend the rest of his life delving beneath the surface. Dean swallowed the rest of his drink, but didn’t take his eyes off of the honest-to-God angel at his side.

“It was…intoxicating,” Cas was saying, he’d turned his eyes to Deans. “This,” Cas tapped his metal cup, “is what I think of when I think of Christmas.”

Dean blushed involuntarily under Cas’s gaze.

Jack cocked his head in a gesture he’d almost certainly picked up from his angelic father. “What did you like about that chapel so much?”

Cas folded his arms and his shoulders sunk, slightly embarrassed. “I like the way sound echoed.”

The three other men laughed and it was Cas’s turn to blush. “Seriously though. You could sit anywhere and when someone spoke the whole place just sang.”

“Sounds beautiful,” Dean’s tone was mocking, but he reached out to grip Castiel’s shoulder affectionately.

Sam’s eyes caught Dean’s and he pleadingly pointed his head towards the library. Dean smiled and nodded. _Sure, Sammy, for you._

 _Thanks man!_ Sam broke out into one of his full-body smiles. “Why don’t we each open a present?”

Jack lit up like, well, a kid on Christmas morning. He leapt up from the meal and ran into the library, Sam right on his heels.

Castiel laughed deeply at their antics, but he didn’t move to leave the table. He seemed quite content to sit there, looking down at his untouched plate, with his shoulder resting flush against Dean’s. Dean felt compelled to saw another bit off his turkey and stuff it into his mouth. 

“You’ve never really talked about Earth before you met us,” Dean spoke around his mouthful.

“It never seemed important or appropriate.”

“Man, the things you’ve seen. I want to hear about it. What was it like?”

Dean felt Cas stiffen beside him. “My garrison was stationed on Earth since practically the beginning. We were told to watch and never interfere unless…well, you know some of that.” Dean reassuringly leaned into Cas while taking another bite.

“But, it was incredibly beautiful. Lonely, certainly, but beautiful.”

“Well, when we deal with Michael, you should tell me about it. All of it.”

Cas tilted his head to catch Dean’s eyes and found that Dean was not only serious, but interested in his stories and who he was before he met the Winchesters. 

“That…would be nice. I – “ Cas was interrupted by being suddenly, but gently pushed against the wall. The first thing his mind processed was the cold tile against the back of his head, but then he became aware of the warmth from Dean’s lips pressing against his own. They were surprisingly soft and tasted of spice and berries. Cas saw that Dean’s eyes were closed tightly and there was a blush on his cheeks. He was beautiful. Cas sank into the kiss and consciously tried push radiantly happy feelings into Dean.

When Dean pulled away, it was with a laugh and a swear. “Damn. I’m sorry. You said that would be nice and I thought ‘I know what would be nice’ and I just…”

“It’s ok Dean,” Cas smiled. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Dean’s. “It’s about damned time.” This time he initiated the long overdue kiss, trapping his friend’s bottom lip between his and running his tongue along that lip, wanting to taste every molecule of Dean.

The pair was interrupted by a disgruntled sigh behind Dean. They whirled around to see Jack roll his eyes at the two of them. “Sam, I don’t think they want to come and open presents!!” Jack called loudly and irritatedly over his shoulders.

Dean reached a hand out to Jack while simultaneously wrapping his other arm around his angel. “Hang on Jack, we’re on our way.” He then whispered conspiratorially to Cas, “We’re ruining Christmas for the kid.”

Dean was proud to step in to the library hand-in-hand with Castiel and Jack merrily chattering ahead of them. Sam looked up from a small pile of gifts on a library table when the trio entered and Dean scored his second full body smile for the day. “Merry Not-quite Christmas, Dean”, Sam nodded towards Dean’s hand.

“Shaddup,” Dean blushed again and smiled towards Cas. 

Jack dutifully began doling out gifts into separate stacks. Apparently, opening one gift each was no longer the plan.

“Can I?” Jack smiled, eagerly clutching a triangle shaped package wrapped in blue snowflake paper.

Dean and Sam shared an approving nod and then Dean nodded to Cas.

“You may.” Castiel answered taking a step away from the boy and his presents. The three older men watched Jack tear into exactly one of his gifts before ripping into their own.

Both Winchester men received a mug that read “My Guardian Angel is a BADASS” which they happily filled with more spiced berry wine. Sam had a thick book of lore written in Enochian to delve into and Jack had many “necessary items for a young man” as Dean described them – a wooden handled straight razor, a bottle of pungent smelling aftershave and a crayon illustrated book entitled How to Get a Girlfriend, among them.

“Do all of the Die Hard movies take place at Christmas?” Cas squinted at some DVD cases in his hands.

“The good ones do,” Dean answered, returning to the room with Sam’s laptop for the impromptu movie night. Sam followed closely with a what was probably Castiel’s uneaten plate and cleared the library table of shredded wrapping paper with a sweep of his long arm.

The brothers shared a glance. _This is Christmas, Dean._

 _Yeah, I guess it is, Sammy. Love you._ Dean narrowed his eyes. _Bitch._

Sam squinted back and smiled. _Jerk._


End file.
